Best Kept Secrets

Robert Mason shook his head as he left the conference room.

“Whose bright idea was it to have a meeting ten minutes before the end of the business day?”

Robert glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost quarter after six.

Brenda is going to be furious, he thought.

The two of them were supposed to attend their daughter’s band concert, an event that Robert promised he would be present for. As it stood, if he left now, he would be able to catch the second half if it.

Robert turned toward the elevator, but seeing the line forming, he opted to take the stairs. Pushing the door open, he reminded himself to not run.

It does no one any favors if I fall down five flights of stairs and break my neck, he thought.

As Robert reached the first floor, he saw a tall solidly built man standing in front of the door to the parking garage. The large man wore a black suit and watched Robert approach with a suspicious gaze.

“Who are you and what are you doing here,” the man asked.

Robert shifted his briefcase on his shoulder and held his access badge with his picture facing out.

“My name is Robert, and I work in this building. I’m just trying to get to my car and leave.”

The man looked Robert up and down then said, “This area is off limits for at least the next two to three hours. There is an investigation taking place, and we can’t have random people disturbing the scene.”

Robert swallowed his first response then asked, “What sort of investigation?”

“The kind that you don’t need to concern yourself with.”

“Look, all I want to do is get out of here to get to my kid’s concert that I am already late for,” Robert said, fighting to keep his voice from rising.

The man sighed and replied, “There is a path marked in yellow tape along the far wall. Follow it to the garage exit. If you step past the yellow tape, you will be arrested for obstruction.”

Robert nodded.

“Thank you very much, Officer-”

“Smith”, the man replied as he waved Robert through the door.

Robert slipped his badge back in his pocket and followed the yellow tape.

Robert’s sports car was parked near the exit, facing the street, but he would have to enter the area of investigation to reach it. Robert walked toward the exit to make sure the officers or whoever had taken over the parking garage, saw him head that direction. As he reached the exit, Robert turned to his left back toward the garage, and slipped behind a column where he squatted down. A line of shrubbery blocked anyone from seeing Robert from the road, so unless Robert walked into the garage, he was safe from detection for now. There were two more columns and a half dozen men and women between him and his car. Robert watched them and quickly realized that these people were not any law enforcement agency he had ever seen. They were not taking notes, collecting evidence, or interviewing anyone. They seemed to be staging the area for something. Robert thought about pulling his phone out and filming them, but he dismissed the idea, when he remembered that there were cameras in the garage.

Unless they have been shut down, he thought.

Which given the situation, was more likely than not to have already happened.

Robert pulled his phone out and activated the video camera. He then slowly moved to the edge of the column, and began filming, only allowing the lens of his camera beyond the column that hid him. Robert had captured almost two minutes of footage, when shouting could be heard at the entrance to the stairwell. The agents looked towards the disturbance, some moved in that direction.

“Now or never”, Robert said softly as he turned off his camera and slipped his phone into his briefcase.

As more agents moved to the far side, Robert pressed a button on his key fob to open the convertible roof. No one noticed the movement as they were dealing with Robert’s coworkers. As the roof lowered, Robert jogged to the vehicle. Robert was in such a hurry that he did not see the black briefcase that someone had placed near his driver door. Robert kicked it into the front tire, and without thinking, he picked it up and tossed it along with his own leather bag into the car. Robert leapt over the door and into the car. He started the engine and sped out of the garage.

At the sound of Robert’s swift exit, several of the alleged investigators turned in that direction. They began speaking into their radios and some were running for vehicles to pursue. By the time order had been restored, the ‘investigation’ was a scene of chaos. Building employees and the alleged agents were shouting at one another and people took the opportunity as Robert did to find their cars and leave. The agent that had confronted Robert shoved a man away in frustration and looked toward the exit.

We will find you, Robert, he thought. One way or another, we will find you.

Robert pulled his car into the back of an abandoned strip mall. He backed into a loading dock, and turned off the lights, but left the engine running in case he had to escape quickly. Robert was breathing hard and his hands shook as his adrenaline dropped out of his system.

“What the hell was that,” he asked, leaning back in the seat.

His eyes drifted to the black briefcase and he felt fear spike in his chest.

“Whatever is in here is going to cause me a lot of trouble.”

Robert got out of the car and opened his trunk. He pulled out a pair of work gloves. The palms were thick latex, and allowed a good degree of dexterity that allowed Robert to avoid leaving fingerprints. He removed a container of alcohol wipes then softly closed the trunk. Robert put the gloves on and pulled out some of the alcohol wipes. He pressed the two clasps and to his surprise, they unlocked. Robert looked around to make sure he was not being watched, then opened the case. Robert’s eyes widened as he saw what had to be hundreds of thousands of dollars in neat rows.

“Oh my God,” he said as he picked up a stack of one hundred dollar bills.

Robert counted them quickly and found that he held ten thousand dollars in his hand. Looking back in the briefcase, he counted the remaining stacks and calculated that it held a total of three hundred thousand dollars. Robert stuffed the money into his leather satchel, filling every available space. He closed the case, then used the alcohol wipes to thoroughly clean the handle to erase any fingerprints he left when he took the briefcase from the garage.

Robert did not know if the agents could track the briefcase, but he was not taking any chances. He walked toward the nearest building and threw the case as far as he could toward the roof. Robert replaced the gloves and wipes in the trunk and leaving his lights off, slowly drove toward another exit that he knew of. Once Robert reached the main road, he finally turned his lights on and drove toward home.

As Robert made his escape, ‘Smith’, the agent that confronted him in the garage arrived at the strip mall. Smith got out of his black SUV holding a tablet in his hand. He followed the signal to a former restaurant and tried to open the door. Smith found the door locked and frowned. The tablet showed that the briefcase was near the center of the restaurant.

“How the hell did he get in here,” Smith asked.

A woman with short brown hair pointed upwards.

“I would bet that he tossed it on the roof since he would not have been able to get in here either.”

Smith flexed his hands into fists and shouted for someone to find a ladder.

Robert sighed contentedly as he looked over the lobby. It had been three years since he and his family had left their hometown and taken up residence in Wyoming. Robert, or rather Harold Phillips as he was known here, worked as a general manager of a moderately sized ski resort. He waved to a few of his regular guests before walking into his office and closing the door halfway. Harold sat at his desk and opened a drawer. He pulled out the badge that he showed the so-called officer Smith three years ago. Harold shook his head as he thought about the incredible chain of events that led to him and his family leaving Florida and living in Wyoming. Harold had submitted the footage he captured to local and state law enforcement agencies. He let them do their thing and after making a deal to protect his family, Robert changed his name and moved across the country. The alleged agents were revealed to be part of an attempt to set up a meeting with various corporation leaders. The money that Harold stole was to be used as a bribe, which is why no one ever asked about the missing money. Harold spread the cash over various accounts and was careful not to splurge in order to avoid raising suspicion.

Harold brushed his thumb across the old photo and then placed the badge into the shredder next to his desk. Harold watched the last piece of his old life be destroyed.